


Keeping Warm

by Tarlan



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-03
Updated: 2002-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-20 02:08:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/207655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris and Vin get caught out during a snowstorm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Warm

**Author's Note:**

> For the January 2002 E-Day Snowstorm and **Keeping Warm** Challenge

The hot and lazy days of the summer were all but a distant memory now as the first snows of the winter began to fall. Chris stared at the soft flakes that spiraled from a dark gray sky and shuddered. He drew his coat tighter around his spare frame and wished he'd had the sense to start back from the small town of Ames Crossing a day earlier. It was bitterly cold but, as long as the wind didn't pick up, then he would be all right. He let go of the reins for a moment and let his horse set his own pace while Chris adjusted the thick scarf he had wrapped around his neck and over the lower half of his face. He had pulled his hat low and he knew he had to look a pathetic sight - though no worse than the man who rode by his side. He grinned at that thought and stared across at Vin Tanner.

Now, there was a man who truly hated the cold. Vin was wrapped up like an Indian babe in a papoose with only the red tip of his nose still visible. As he watched, Vin pulled his scarf away a little and the warmth of his breath made misty plumes in the cold air.

"What are you sniggering at, Larabee?"

"Just thinking what a pair we make."

"Wind's gonna pick up."

Chris frowned and gazed around but could feel no increase in the strength of the wind though it did seem a mite colder than it had been only moments before. He shivered and snarled at the thought of riding through snow driven by a biting wind.

"You say the nicest things, Tanner."

"We should have left yesterday."

"Yeah, but we didn't... and no amount of bitching is going to change that."

"Ain't bitching. Just saying it as it is."

Chris didn't bother to answer. He readjusted his scarf and pulled his coat even tighter around him; silently wishing he had brought his poncho along as well. Vin was hidden beneath his buckskin coat with a blanket draped over the top of that. He had wound a thick scarf around his neck and then over his slouch hat to keep his head warm. The gently swirling snowflakes were starting to settle on his coat and on the few strands of his hair that had escaped imprisonment by the scarf - and he looked cold and miserable.

They reached a natural fork in the track they were following where one way led to the town they protected and the other led close to the small holding Chris had taken many months back. Chris reined to a halt and looked down both tracks, weighing up the options. He glanced up into the ever-darkening gray sky, noticing that the clouds were moving across from where they were heading. He sighed. It had probably been snowing all night out here so they were in for some deep drifts. He decided to let Vin make a choice.

"Town's this way... but my shack's one hell of a lot closer if we go this way."

"I know. I'm the tracker. Remember, Larabee?"

"Damn if you ain't the sorriest sonuvabitch on occasion." Chris let out a deep breath, the long plume of misty air a physical sign of his annoyance. "I'm letting you decide, Tanner, seeing's how you're the one doing all the bitching."

"Your shack. Stay out here much longer and I'm liable to freeze my ass off."

"Now that'd be a shame."

"Huh?"

Chris looked away in shock at his own words. He hadn't meant to say them out loud, least not so Vin would hear them. He quickly covered for himself by adding a touch more venom to a sarcastic tone.

"Just be one more thing for you to bitch about."

"Gonna shoot your damn ass off if you don't quit with the bitching talk. I ain't bitching, but I am getting real mad at you, Chris."

Chris pulled on the reins and turned his horse in the direction of the shack. He'd brought a stack of wood in to dry out a few days back, and there was some smaller kindling all set up to get a fire started quickly.

They were perhaps an hour away when the wind picked up just as Vin had predicted, driving the snow into their faces. It had already settled, deepening rapidly on the already frozen ground until the horses were plowing through drifts that came up to the stirrups. It was slower going and, once or twice, Chris felt his horse's hooves slip from beneath him but, each time, his horse recovered in time. He gritted his teeth and pressed on, knowing that a warm shelter and hot food could not be too far ahead of them now. He looked back at Vin's muffled curse and knew he was having similar problems with the treacherous ground but, despite the danger, neither of them wanted to walk through thigh-deep snow.

As the trail became more slippery and dangerous, they had to slow down their pace even more. Almost another hour past before Chris noticed far more familiar sights within the snow-covered landscape. He realised that, at this speed, it would take them a further twenty minutes to reach the shack but at least the end of their journey was in sight.

It happened so fast. One moment he was urging his horse onwards and the next he was buried beneath the snow with the weight of his horse crushing his leg. The scarf around his face muffled his yell of pain and then he felt as if he was being smothered as the horse thrashed about trying to regain its feet. Cold snow seeped beneath his clothing, melting against his skin. From somewhere above him he thought he could hear Vin's voice and, suddenly, his horse was rising off him and, moments later, Chris saw Vin's face above him. Vin had torn away his scarf and his blue eyes were wide and dark with concern. Vin dropped to his knees beside Chris in the deep indentation made into the snow by the struggling horse and he brushed away the snow before pulling back the scarf from Chris's face.

"Chris? You hurting any place?"

"My leg."

Vin ran his hands down the denim clad leg and Chris had to suck in a deep breath when they reached just above his knee.

"Don't reckon it's broken. Figure you must have bruised it bad though."

"How's my horse?"

"I'll check but he looked fine to me... maybe a little bruised too. Don't reckon you should ride him no more today." Vin looked deep into Chris's eyes, a hardness in the blue that told Chris that Vin would broach no disagreement to the words that would follow. "You can ride my horse and I'll lead yours on foot."

"No. You can ride on ahead--"

"Dammit, Chris. You ain't gonna be walking too far on that leg, and I don't plan on carrying you when I've got a horse that can do the job for me." Vin's eyes softened. "You know it makes sense, Cowboy."

Chris bowed his head in frustration and acceptance, and then he let Vin help him climb into the saddle. He winced as his leg banged against the horse's flank and then he gathered up the reins from Vin. He glanced ahead to where the snow had already drifted more than four feet high in places. He nudged the horse towards the lee side of the hill to where it had been sheltered from the driving wind. The least he could do was make a path through the virgin snow for Vin to follow. He grimaced as every step jarred his aching leg and hoped they would make good time back to the shack as the snow had soaked right into his clothing leaving him cold and wet.

The cold wind howled through the valley and whistled through the few straggly trees but as he circled the hill, it hit him head on, seeming to penetrate his soaked coat and clothing, freezing his hands to the reins. He bit back a cry of pain as the deepening snow pushed against his injured leg and tried not to think about the numbness slowly spreading through the rest of his body as the cold seeped into his flesh. He wondered how Vin was doing, hoping that he was being protected from the worst of the wind's bite by Chris riding in front of him. He glanced over his shoulder for what seemed like the hundredth time since they started off again, and saw Vin resolutely placing one foot in front of the other as he led Chris's horse along.

Chris looked along the trail once more and gave a small prayer of thanks when he recognized the dark shape that lay ahead. They ought to reach the shack in ten more minutes even at this slow pace. He let thoughts of a roaring fire in the pot-belly stove, and a hot meal in his own belly, spur him onwards and then he had to rein in a little when he remembered that Vin was on foot.

Those few minutes crawled past like hours as the cold wind buffeted him. His head was swimming, his eyes felt as if they were frozen in their sockets and he couldn't seem to move his hands any longer but, finally, they reached the shack. There was a small stable not twenty feet away that was large enough for both horses, and Vin's horse aimed straight towards it.

****

Vin was relieved when they reached the shack. He trudged along behind Chris and waited for a long time before he realised there was a problem. Chris had made no attempt to climb off his horse and open the stable door. Vin pushed through the thick layer of snow and stopped by Chris's side, looking up with a frown that turned to shock. The front of Chris's coat looked like it was made of ice dusted in snow and the man looked as if he was sculptured in the same fashion. Vin realized what Chris had done; using his own body to shield Vin from the worst of the elements - and paying for it.

"Damn it, Larabee."

Vin staggered through the snow and, with half-frozen fingers, he flipped the latch and pulled back the door. He did not need to urge the horses inside and out for the strong, cold wind for they came eagerly. Vin dragged the bridle and then the saddle off Chris's injured horse, swinging it over the rail. He turned his attention to the other horse.

He grabbed Chris around the lean hips and pulled him from the horse, almost stumbling backwards as Chris's unresisting weight came down on him. Vin settled Chris in the farthest corner while he quickly unsaddled and tended to the horses' immediate needs. All the while, he glanced over his shoulder at Chris, his fear mounting when Chris made little attempt to move. Finally, when he felt he had done enough to keep the horses comfortable for the next few hours, Vin knelt down beside Chris.

"Hey, Cowboy. How're you doing?"

Vin prised off the scarf. It was as stiff as a piece of boarding, frozen into place and it cracked as Vin pulled it aside so he could see Chris's face more clearly. Small patches of deathly white skin had him grimacing as Vin recognized the first stages of frostbite.

"Got to get us both warmed up, Chris. Need you to help me get you to the shack. Can you try and hold onto me?"

Vin shuddered in relief when Chris made a small sign that he was aware of what was happening and was willing to try. Nonetheless, Vin had trouble pulling Chris to his feet for his own cold fingers were only slightly thawed through tending to the horses. He dragged Chris's arm over his shoulder, supporting the slightly taller man as best he could, and headed for the door. The wind battered at them mercilessly as the pair stepped back outside. Thigh deep snow made the going harder still as Vin pushed on relentlessly. Chris sagged against him, unable to go any farther so Vin heaved him over one shoulder before battling towards the shack using his last remaining strength.

A gust of wind caught them as he released the latch. The door crashed open, smashing against the inside wall, and he tumbled inside with Chris dropping hard to the floor as a wall of snow followed them over the threshold. Vin scrambled to his feet and placed all his weight against the door to push it closed, fighting the ever-increasing strength of the wind. He sagged down, back against the door, as it latched back into place and Vin eyed the room carefully, finally alighting on an object that would suit his needs. He pushed himself back to his feet, pulled Chris out of the way and then dragged the heavy, rough-hewn table across the small room to force it against the door. He had a feeling this snowstorm would get far worse before it was over.

Outside he could hear the wind howling, and could feel icy fingers stroking his body as the wind found its way through small cracks and holes in the shack. He knew his strength was giving out fast; knew that he was running on pure adrenaline, but Vin also knew that he had to see to Chris before he gave into his own body's demands. They needed heat and hot food, but first, Chris needed to be out of the freezing, wet clothing that encased him.

"Need to get those wet things of you, Chris."

He tugged off his thick gloves using his teeth, and slung them aside, and then he pulled off his hat, scarf and hide coat. His finger tips were white with cold and he rubbed his hands together viciously before attempting to undress Chris. Vin cast the flat-brim hat aside and pulled off the cold and stiff scarf. His numb fingers felt clumsy and useless as he tried to open frozen buttons. He looked into Chris's face, fear filling his own at the unresponsiveness and half-shuttered eyes. Vin grabbed him on the shoulders and shook him hard, noticing the way the frozen stiff strands of blond hair whipped back and forth yet left no marks on the too white face.

"Chris? You got to stay awake a little longer. Talk to me."

"Huuhh."

"Yeah, I know you don't say more than three words a day... and I guess you already used up you quota earlier, but I need you to talk to me now."

"Vin?"

"Yeah?" Vin looked up from where he was teasing another button through its hole.

"Good to be warm again. Gonna get some sleep now."

Vin swallowed hard and shook Chris harder.

"Can't let you do that, Cowboy. You ain't warm... you're frozen. I'm gonna get you warm though, and keep you warm. I promise. So you just hang on in there."

Vin teased open the last button on the heavy coat and started to push it back. It resisted, like it was made of wood rather than material.

"Need you to help me here, Pard. Yeah. That's it."

He pulled off the coat and set to work on the next layer but he could see Chris was fading fast.

"To hell with it. I'll buy you a new shirt."

Vin reached for his hunting knife and quickly sliced through the cloth of shirt and underwear, tearing it from the frozen man. Chris's skin was icy to the touch and his toes were as deadly white as his fingers. Vin grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around him while he set to work on taking off Chris's boots and pants. Once he had him naked, Vin began to rub his arms and legs vigorously, trying to get the blood circulating again.

Chris started to thrash weakly, small cries of pain falling from his pale lips as blood pumped back into his extremities. Vin's fingers and toes were tingling on the razor edge of pain as well but he pushed aside his own needs and concentrated on Chris. It took a while before he saw a little pinkness return to Chris's toes and fingers but it was enough for now.

Hanging his head down in exhaustion, Vin gave himself a moment before starting on the next task. He grinned in relief when he opened the grate and noticed that the pot-belly stove had been set up ready to be lit. All it took was a little extra kindling and a match to get it going. Using a cooking pot, Vin scooped up some of the mound of snow from just inside the door and he set it on top of the stove. He grabbed the dry oat mix from the shelf and set about making a porridge, knowing it would be hot and filling. While that cooked, Vin dragged the over-sized bed closer to the stove. He pulled Chris to his feet and lowered him onto it.

****

Chris watched him through slits, his eyelids heavy with fatigue. He tried to help but his body was unresponsive, refusing to follow his mental commands. Vin kept shaking him, and he was beginning to get cross. He wanted to sleep. He needed to sleep. Why wouldn't Tanner let him sleep. Chris groaned as Vin raised him up to sitting again. He felt Vin's strong body behind him, supporting him against his chest.

"Got to eat, Chris. This'll warm you up from the inside."

Chris almost gagged as something bland and lumpy was forced into his mouth. He tried to draw his head away but the spoon followed and he didn't have the strength to fight it. He swallowed some of the hot, solid mass; his hunger returning full force as the thick porridge settled in his empty stomach. Chris reached for the bowl and spoon with shaking hands but Vin brushed both away and continued to feed him.

"Ain't an invalid, Vin.... I can feed myself."

Chris was surprised at how weak and slurred his words were but Vin relented, handing over the spoon to Chris and grabbing a second spoon for himself. They quickly dispatched the remaining porridge from the bowl and Chris waited while Vin refilled it from the nearby pot. The second bowl disappeared even faster but Chris shook his head when Vin offered more.

It was then that he noticed Vin had stripped out of his clothes at some point as was wrapped only in a blanket too. Chris tried to let his emotions go blank; tried not think about Vin being almost naked, seated behind him with their bodies separated only by the width of two thin blankets. He groaned almost inaudibly but Vin stiffened.

"Chris?"

"I'm all right... just tired, is all."

Vin relaxed again though Chris could tell he was not completely at ease. For a moment he wondered if Vin was having the same dangerous thoughts, but then the exhaustion of his battle through the storm overtook him once more and he felt his eyelids drooping again. He barely mumbled as Vin stripped away his blanket and laid it over the top of him. His eyes opened a fraction in surprise when he felt warm flesh press up behind him, but then he succumbed to the fatigue that had seeped into him - and slept.

****

Vin spooned up behind Chris, wrapping his arms around the narrow waist as he pressed his chest up against the surprisingly broad back. Chris's skin still felt chilled, but it had lost the rigid and bloodless, ice-cold touch. He knew from his time spent with the Kiowa that the best way to keep warm was by sharing body heat with skin-to-skin contact. He sighed, deeply. If circumstances had been different then he would have gained a lot of pleasure from feeling Chris's naked flesh pressed so tightly along the length of his own body. He stopped that errant thought before it could manifest into physical form; uncertain how Chris would react to finding Vin's hard shaft nestling in the valley between his ass cheeks.

Still, he knew an opportunity to hold the man he loved - so intimately - might never come again, and so Vin snuggled closer, breathing in the familiar scent of this man. There was a rich musk of maleness mingled with a the faintest scent of a cheroot, leather, gun oil and whiskey. It was a scent that Vin had long associated with Chris; enabling him to recognize his friend's presence even on the darkest of nights. He felt his eyes flickering, heavy with fatigue and knew Chris had drifted off to sleep immediately. Vin listened as his breathing deepened before nuzzling against the fine hair at the nape of Chris's neck. He stopped when Chris moved, feeling pleased when the strong body nestled closer to him rather than drawing away. Vin held Chris tighter, letting his hands rub across the cool flesh and the peak of cold nipple; memorizing every plane of muscle and curve of bone. He sighed his appreciation as Chris's arms hugged around his, and then Vin closed his eyes and slept.

****

When Vin awoke, he peered around groggily. The room was dark except for the small amount of light spilling from the stove. He could see the embers glowing red and orange and wondered if the loss of heat was what had awoken him. Then Vin noticed how quiet it was. The wind had ceased howling leaving a silence that was more complete than any Vin had known in the past. Usually there was the sound of horses and people in the streets, or of birds and other small animals skittering through the dust or the through the undergrowth, but the blanket of snow beyond the door had muffled the world.

He raised his head slightly and felt the slight movement of a body in his arms. He sighed, believing he was back in Ames Crossing with the whore he'd taken the previous night. He'd singled her out because she had a tall, lean, yet manly figure, with short blond hair and green eyes. He had wondered - silently - how many other men took her because she looked so much like a man. He had taken his pleasure from her, refusing to feel guilty that he had spent the night in her bed pretending she was the one he truly wanted. He had slaked his lust upon her robust yet still too frail body - all the time dreaming that she was Chris Larabee.

Strange, but he couldn't recall going back to the saloon earlier.

At some time, while they slept, their legs had become entwined, with Vin's top leg parting her strong, lean thighs - and yet, those legs seemed heavier, more dense, as if they were a man's legs. Her blond hair shimmered orange and gold in the waning light from the stove, and he noticed, for the first time, that her ears were delicately shaped like Chris's.

A dream.

Vin smiled softly, not wanting to break away from this amazing dream that he was lying here naked, spooned up behind an equally naked Chris. He could feel the strong muscles rippling with every small movement, exuding more power than from any female.

Such a good dream.

If he concentrated hard enough then he could feel the heaviness of Chris's sac against the top of his thigh, and the ridges of firm stomach muscle beneath the palm of his hand. He let his palm glide over the muscle, feeling the tickling sensation of fine hair as his hand swept lower until he reached the coarser hair at the groin. Not wanting to go higher in case he found her heavy breasts and destroyed this fantastic illusion.

So real. This dream Chris seemed so wonderfully real.

Vin's shaft jerked with the in-rush of blood as his hand came across softly swelling flesh. He let his fingers skim along the slowly engorging shaft, feeling the velvet softness of skin as one finger traced the delicate ridge of the main vein upwards to the flared head.

Chris moaned again - softly - murmuring quietly as Vin brushed his finger along the sensitive slit. He felt a dewdrop of moisture at the tip and smeared it gently over the head in a gentle, circular motion. Chris stretched easily, the covers lifting enough for Vin's senses to pick up the strong, masculine scent of fresh male sex, and the slightest hint of all those other familiar scents of cheroots and whiskey and gun oil that made this dream sensation so very real. He nuzzled at the exposed neck, tasting the saltiness upon the warm flesh and sucking gently; his own hips rocking as his hard shaft was caught between the firm mounds of Chris's ass, the sensitive head sliding on the slightest sheen of sweat.

"Chris." He whispered softly, sighing the name of the man he loved. He swept away all thought of this being some other person in his arms; some nameless whore bought for a night rather than the one man he wanted to share everything he had with.

Vin's hand encircled Chris's hard flesh; his callused thumb rubbing along the slit and spreading more evidence of Chris's rising passion. He thrust harder against the body in his arms, feeling the sensations slowly building, his senses spiraling as warm sensations radiated outwards from his groin, melting his muscles as the final climax overwhelmed him. He bit down hard on the warm flesh, hearing Chris's cry as his hand was splashed with the liquid heat of Chris's release.

Vin took deep, shuddering breaths as the overpowering sensations ebbed away leaving his body heavy; filled with a bone-deep lassitude. He opened tired but satisfied eyes, and kissed the angry mark on his lover's neck while his hands caressed the still figure lying in his arms.

Vin sighed, knowing he must have upset her. She must have heard him whisper Chris's name but he was damned if he was going to say he was sorry. He had never experienced anyone who felt so good and right in his arms before; someone who came so close to the perfection that was Chris Larabee. Nonetheless, she wasn't Chris, and his heart lurched with sadness that his dream was as far from reality as ever. He kissed the nape of her neck - hoping to placate his bed-mate - and squeezed his eyes shut tighter, trying to preserve this dream encounter with Chris for just a little longer. It worked as the tension eased from the body lying spent in his arms.

It was strange, but he still couldn't recall going back to the saloon earlier.

He remembered he and Chris had set out from the town a day later than was wise - especially as there was an ominous feeling of snow in the air. Had they turned back when the first snows had fluttered from the darkening gray skies?

No. They had pressed on - and the snow had come down thicker, driven by a merciless wind that grew in intensity until they were battling against the raging storm. Vin opened his eyes but could see very little, still unaccustomed to the meager light in the room, as more memories flowed back.

Chris had fallen; his horse landing on top of him, burying him in the deep drifts of snow. A moment of panic filled Vin as his mind flashed back to those moments of fear as he leaped from his horse and pulled Chris's struggling horse back onto its feet. The snow had cushioned Chris but both he and his horse was injured - but they had forged on against the storm with Chris mounted up on Vin's horse and taking the brunt of the storm.

They had reached Chris's shack - but Chris was frozen.

"Chris?" He whispered softly, recalling the bloodless flesh and unresponsive man.

"Hmmm?"

Vin realised the contented, sleepy sound was coming from right in front of him, and the rest of his memories fell into place when he realised that this was not a dream, and that Chris was lying warm and naked in his arms. A bubble of pure happiness welled up inside him - and then he realised what he had just done.

"Oh God."

Vin scrabbled backwards to the far edge of the bed. He looked down at his sticky hand; the overpowering scent of spent passion filling his senses. His belly was just as sticky, smeared with the incriminating evidence of his own release.

Chris had been injured, frozen and exhausted - and Vin had used him like he was some nameless whore in a small town brothel.

No... that wasn't true. He dreamed it had been Chris. Had worshiped the body that had brought reality to his fantasies.

Reality? But it _was_ Chris.

"Oh God."

"Vin?"

Vin froze as he heard the softly questioning voice that haunted all his dreams; his eyes hardening as he waited for Chris to pick up his gun and shoot him. Chris rolled over to face Vin, his green eyes almost black in the darkness of the room.

Not a room. It was Chris's shack. Chris's home.

"Vin?"

The voice was still soft, and still gently questioning.

"Yeah."

His response came out as a gravely croak so Vin cleared his throat and tried again. This time his voice was stronger. Chris propped his head up on one elbow while his other hand trailed through the still glistening pool of spent seed smeared across his belly.

"Why are you over there? Thought you were going to keep me warm."

Confusion filled Vin. Maybe Chris hadn't been aware of what Vin had done to him; how he had used him. Vin glanced down at the gently stroking fingers, mesmerized as they glided across firm muscle, dipping into the navel then circling through the denser hair at the edge of the groin. The softened sex lay limp against his thigh, and Vin swallowed hard as he recalled fondling the engorged shaft, sliding it between his encircling fingers, slowly bringing Chris to the edge of pleasure and then over into ecstasy.

Chris's eyes followed Vin's downwards to where he was still toying with himself. He raised his eyes back to Vin without lifting his head, glowering at Vin from beneath long, blond lashes. Chris reached for the blankets and held them open in invitation.

"Getting cold, Vin. And you did promise to keep me warm."

Vin remained frozen in shock, his eyes dropping down again as Chris let the blankets fall aside. Momentarily, his eyes went to the livid bruising on Chris's leg but he could see that it wasn't bothering Chris too much. He raised his eyes slightly as Chris began to fondle his softened sex; watching intently as it slowly filled, arching away from the nest of tight dark blond curls to stand proud. He met Chris's eyes once more, seeing the truth in there.

"Dammit, Larabee. How long have you known?"

"Didn't. Least, not until now... though I kind of hoped."

Vin laughed, shaking his head in wonder at all the time wasted. But he would waste no more time. Vin crawled back along the bed and settled down into Chris's arms, tucking his head under Chris's chin. He held onto Chris tightly, savouring the sensation of naked flesh upon naked flesh even as he recalled those terrifying moments when he thought he had lost Chris.

"If this is a dream then I don't ever wanna wake up."

Vin heard the rumble of a chuckle before a hand drew his face upwards--and they shared the first of many kisses.

THE END


End file.
